


Heavy is The Head That Wears The Crown

by Rebecca_icantthinkofagoodusername



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-10-31 19:16:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10905744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebecca_icantthinkofagoodusername/pseuds/Rebecca_icantthinkofagoodusername
Summary: Based on Hesiod's account of the birth of Zeus and his rise to power.





	1. Chapter 1

Rhea brings her cloak tighter around her body. The folds of her dress whip in the wind, snapping against her legs. Her skin pricks with cold and her fingers have started to numb where they clutch at her cloak. The night covers the landscape in darkness as Rhea stubbles across her mother's terrain. Her father's brightness dimmed by the clouds that shroud Rhea as she hurries to Lyktos. The place her mother told her to go so her child will be safe. 

Rhea’s foot gets caught in the uneven terrain and she falls. One hand reaches out to catch her while the other instinctively cradles her belly. Rhea hits the ground with a jarring impact. 

Rhea slowly rights herself to a sitting position and takes stock of her injuries. Her knees and her palm are scraped, bits of dirt and rock clinging to the ruined skin. Rhea tucks away the hair that had fallen into her face and grimaces. Her swollen feet and aching back scream at her to rest. 

Rhea carefully gets up off the ground knowing her balance is precarious due to her swollen belly. She hears the sound of running water. Lively bubbling that imitates water nymph’s laughter. Rhea secures her hood over her head as she makes her way down to the small stream. No one, not even the nymphs, can recognise her if her mother’s plan is to work. She enters the small stream, the water lapping at her ankles. The cool water washes away the dirt and blood from her damaged skin and soothes her aches, making them more manageable. 

Rhea pulls out her waterskin and fills it with fresh water. She then takes a long pull. The water is colder than the already frigid air, but she still sighs in relief once her thirst has been quenched. After she refills the skin she sits and watches the small stream. The flow of the water calming her. 

The flow of the water, the flow of blood. the flow of milk, even the flow of time. All her domain. It is not a tidal wave but a quiet inevitability. Her husband wants disrupt that flow. To remain in power when it is his fate to be replaced. 

Rhea wraps her arms around her torso as her thoughts turn towards her predicament. 

‘Animals never drink from stagnant water. Those that do become sick and die. Without change we will become stagnant. Become poisoned and filled with disease.’ Rhea’s eyes roam the darkened landscape searching for movement.

‘We immortals cannot become physically ill, but I see it is his eyes. His jealously, his paranoia, it consumes him,’ Rhea thinks with firm conviction.

‘Getting away from him took great planning and skill and even now I am not free.’ The arms around her torso tighten.

‘I will have to return to him.’ Rhea gets up wishing for distraction as she navigates her way around trees and stones. 

Her urgency drives her forward. But still her thoughts linger on her husband. 

“Who is he to demand so much?” Rhea asks out loud. Her voice careful not to carry but still filled with emotion.

“Who is he to put me through such grief?” 

“Not once, not twice, but five times I had to suffer my children being taken away from me. Unable to even hold them. Unable to raise them. The chance to see them grow taken from me. Even now I must abandon my child. A child with no mother and no father, left alone in a cave. How can I call myself a mother?” 

Rhea’s anger dissipates as she is once more filled with grief for her unborn child.

“Even though all that I do is out of love, how can my child know they are loved if I am not there? My mother will care for her grandchild, but it will still be a lonely existence. One shrouded in fear of discovery. Forced to remain hidden. What kind of mother am I that that is the only life I can give my child?” 

Rhea continues on her journey. One hand outstretched for balance. The other placed on her stomach creating small circles with her thumb as if she if trying to imbue as much love and affection as she can within the the short time she has left. 

She knows she is almost there. As she enters Crete some of her strength returns as her goal becomes near. 

With weary eyes she sees the entrance to her mother’s cave. 

Hidden reserves carry her heavily pregnant body through a series of convoluted tunnels. The cave walls are slick with moisture, the cold air moving with a gentle breeze. It feels as though her mother’s breath is caressing Rhea’s sweat damp skin. The difference to an even colder temperature causes shivers to pass through her. Rhea feels cramps travel through her muscles. Every step comes with a twinge of pain. 

Through her exhaustion she moves deeper into the cave. Her vision tunnels in the dim, barely there light. Her only focus is the space in front of her feet. She thinks of nothing except the next step, not paying attention to where she is headed. She trusts her mother’s ability to be able to lead her back out of the cave when this is over. 

She comes across a space free of broken stones and stalagmites. The space is barely larger than the surrounding tunnels, but when she sees it the aches and pains she had been ignoring through the last leg of her journey come flooding back into her consciousness. Her weary body collapses gratefully onto the cold floor, her upper body upright only through the presence of the cave wall against her back. 

Rhea leans her head back thunking softly against the unforgiving wall. Her muscles loosen as Rhea slumps ungracefully. The sound of her harsh breathing slowing to a more normal pace fills Rhea’s ears. 

Her rest is disrupted by her body making it’s displeasure known. Unhappy with the abuse she has put it through. It seems as though every muscle aches. Hours of walking causing strain to her body. The cuts on her knees and palm throb with every heartbeat and the twinges along her belly that have been steadily occurring from when she entered the cave bring a whimper to her lips. 

The thought of giving birth in her already exhausted state almost brings tears to her eyes. 

Her other pregnancies always brought out strong emotions in her. Emotions swinging from one extreme to the other, crying and screaming in turns throughout the births. 

But these tears she pushes down. The importance of this birth forces Rhea to push her fears aside. 

She takes out her waterskin and swallows what she can. Some of the water spills down her front, the pain and exhaustion making her fingers tremble. 

There is no light. Only indistinct outlines of rocks and cave walls make up her surroundings. She has no wood to make a fire, no kindling nor flint. Even if she did have the materials Rhea doubts her trembling fingers would be capable of creating a fire. 

‘Looks like I’ll be doing this in the dark’, Rhea thinks wryly. 

Another contraction interrupts her thoughts. Rhea grits her teeth and tries to focus on her breathing. The cold air burns her lungs and sweat drips into her eyes. 

Eventually her harsh pants taper out as the pain subsides. 

The previous times Rhea gave birth she had her mother and sometimes her sisters help her. If Kronos allowed it. Kronos would watch so he could take the child as soon as it was born. Eyes never wavering as he observed his children being born. Then once they're born he imprisons her children inside him not unlike the way their father trapped them inside their mother. 

‘Did he not learn from our father’s mistakes?’, Rhea thinks to herself. Her husband’s actions never far from her mind.

Rhea, slightly delirious with pain and lack of sleep, chuckles softly to herself.

“Oh my!” Rhea says to herself through fits of giggles.

“He still carries around that stupid scythe of his!”, Rhea exclaims.

“What are you doing, husband? On the lookout for rogue penises?” Rhea breathes out a soft chuckle.

“Yes! We get it! You chopped off our father’s penis. We were all there. We aren't exactly going to forget now are we?” Rhea gives a final snicker and lets out a forceful sigh. 

Rhea, talking to an imaginary Kronos, contemplates her husband’s actions.

“He did trap us but he was still our father. And you mutilated him, Kronos. And you have yet to pay for that. Yes, our mother was the one to give you the scythe but you did the deed.

Maybe if you were more clever or more diplomatic we could of gotten out another way. We could of made a deal or convinced him to let us go.

Yes, you set us free, but how could I be free with you as our king? The king fated to be overthrown?”

Rhea squeezes her eyes shut as a new wave of pain comes over her. She clenches the material of her dress between her fists and forces out harsh puffs of air. Through her pants Rhea grits out, “How could I be free with you as my husband?”

Rhea grabs a handful of the dirty dress she had worn throughout her journey. The dress is torn from when she fell, caked with dirt and blood. Stiff with dried sweat. It stinks and doesn't provide much protection. Despite that, Rhea bunches the material and shoves it in her mouth. Smothering her screams as her contractions reach its peak.

The contraction ends, giving her a brief respite. Rhea gathers her strength knowing that on her next contraction she is going to have to push. 

She slowly pushes herself upright into a crouching position using the wall behind her for support. This position is uncomfortable for her feet and back but she knows that in this position gravity will aid her delivery of her baby.

Again, Rhea clamps her teeth down on her dress as another contraction rips through her and she starts to push. Her screams, although muffled, are loud and Rhea can only hope that she remains undetected.

Her hands grip at the cave wall until her fingertips turn white. Her balance precarious as she focuses entirely on pushing with as much strength as she can.

As the contraction ends, the material falls out of Rhea’s mouth and the cave is filled with the sound of harsh breathing and half-formed sobs.

Rhea struggles to catch her breath as her muscles strain with keeping her in position.

She puts as much weight as she is able to against the wall. Rhea is unable to calm her breathing as the next contraction starts. Her sobs intensify and a lump starts to form in her throat. 

Panic seizes her as her breaths become shorter and more uneven Unable to catch her breath as waves of pain wash over her. Her body overcomes her senses as she starts to push. 

Fear fills Rhea as dark spots come across her vision. No matter how many breaths she takes, she still struggles. She’s scared and feels more alone than she has ever felt in her immortal life. Tears start to prick at the corners of her eyes. The tears mingle with the sweat on her skin. 

The contraction ends and Rhea falls to her knees. Curling up in the foetal position, Rhea attempts to regain control over her breathing. 

Her breaths slowly calm and her panic starts to recede. Adrenaline continues to course through her, causing her to feel every rapid beat of her heart in her chest. 

Too exhausted to get back up Rhea rolls onto her back and spreads her legs. Blindly she reaches a hand to feel what progress she has made. She just touches the top of her soon-to-be-born child when another contraction starts. 

Rhea, beyond the point of exhaustion, manages with a deep breath to let out a guttural yell and give one last push. She feels her child slide out of her with a wet squelch. 

In a daze, Rhea hears the sound of cries echoing around the cave, originating from space in front of her. With weak limbs and with lots of awkward manoeuvring Rhea lays her eyes on her son for the first time. 

With slow hands Rhea gathers the boy to her chest. Her lying down on the ground and her son lying on top of her, positioned underneath her chin. As soon as he is removed from the unforgiving floor he quietens down. Rhea carefully wraps as much her cloak around her son as she can with her still wearing it. 

Despite the fatigue weighing down her eyelids she refuses to tear her eyes away from her son. Afraid if she closes her eyes this moment will turn out to be an illusion and her son will disappear. 

Her son makes a gurgling noise and a laugh springs from her lips. Surprising herself with the joyous sound. 

She can’t remember the last time she laughed. 

Then from inside the cave she hears footsteps. Rhea’s heart rate increases tenfold. She clutches desperately at her son.

“No no no no”, Rhea mumbles to herself.

“I just got him.” Rhea scrambles upright until her back hits the cave wall. Although she is desperate, her resolve hardens. 

She will not let him take her son. 

Light begins to invade the cave as a torch comes into view, momentary blinding Rhea. 

An imposing figure comes to stand in front of her. 

“Relax, dear daughter. It is only I”, the voice is cool and calm. Infused with a quiet dignity that can only come when you were the beginning of all things heaven and earth. 

Rhea slumps against the wall. Tension suddenly released from her muscles. 

“Mother…” Rhea sighs. With the knowledge she is not in danger Rhea’s gaze drifts to the baby in her arms. Making sure he’s alright. He has one of his hands pressed against his mouth. Strings of saliva connect his fist to his lips. Rhea smiles softly down on him and pulls her makeshift blanket tighter around him. 

Then Rhea’s gaze snaps upward towards her mother. 

Everything about her is perfect. Her clean glossy hair is perfectly styled, her dress beautiful and clean. Her posture commanding respect just from the way she stands. She looks completely at home navigating these tricky tunnels. It seems as though the stalactites bend away from her, giving her space to stand tall and proud in her domain. Even the way she holds the torch with delicate ease speaks of confidence and strength. 

Rhea knows in comparison she looks a wreck. Covered in blood and dirt. Clothes ruined and hair in disarray. Wisps of damp hair stick to her face and she is huddled on the floor like a scared animal.

Rhea’s eyes narrow at her mother. “Where were you?”, she snaps.

Her mother, unimpressed, slowly raises an arched eyebrow. “Distracting your husband, dear. In case you’ve forgotten?” She says in a tone questioning her daughter’s intelligence. 

Rhea glares at her mother.

“Come, child,” Earth says exasperated. “You’ve waited too long already”, Earth swiftly moves forward and sets down her torch. Competently, with nimble fingers, she ties of two ends of the umbilical cord and uses a knife to cleanly cut it in one graceful movement. 

“Come. Hand me the child. The afterbirth will arrive soon.” Earth orders producing a blanket from somewhere. 

‘Where is she getting this stuff?’ Rhea thinks bemusedly as she reluctantly hands over her son.

The afterbirth arrives quickly and without fuss. Her mother hands Rhea some nectar and ambrosia. Rhea quickly eats and drinks, eager for her son to be in her arms again. Earth obligingly hands him over, intimately aware of a mother’s instincts. 

The two women sit in silence for a few moments. The only sound coming from the child in Rhea’s arms. 

“So. It’s a boy” Earth says. Her voice tinged with disapproval.

“Don’t start, mother,” Rhea says wearily. 

“All I was going to say was I wasn’t surprised,” Earth says in a deceptively innocent tone. Hands raised in a gesture of surrender.

“Sure you were, mother” 

Rhea gazes softly at her son, blessedly asleep in her mother’s arms. “But you’re wrong, you know.” Rhea looks into her mother’s eyes, “He’s going to be different”.

“I know you need to believe that. But I’ve been here longer-”

“Can you stop being so condescending?” Rhea interrupts.

“I’m your mother, I’m allowed to be condescending” Earth says. Her voice hard.

“Arrogance isn’t a good look on you, mother”

“Neither is naivety on you, daughter dear”

Rhea looks down. She softly strokes a finger down her son’s cheek. His warmth giving her comfort. Not wanting to continue arguing, Rhea states, “He’s your grandson, mum”.

Earth sighs and sits down next to Rhea. 

Earth looks at him for a moment. Cataloging his features. “He is pretty cute,” she says with exasperated fondness at her daughter. 

Rhea smiles at her mother. Grateful for the olive branch.

“Now there’s a rare sight,” comments Earth. Earth gently tucks a strand of hair behind Rhea’s ear. “It’s been an age since the last time you smiled at me.”

“Well, now I have reason to”

“You truly believe that he would be different?” Earth asks. Not with sarcasm, but with genuine curiosity. “Different from his father? His grandfather?”

“Yes”

“How?”

“Well, he would be raised by you. You can tell him the mistakes of his kin.” Rhea looks at her mother. The sharp cleverness a constant feature since the time she first looked at her mother’s face. 

“But I am not his mother. Nor his father,” Earth says with calm logic.

“But you can be his teacher.” Rhea and her mother do argue. but there is no one Rhea respects more.

“A child needs to be loved, daughter dear,” Earths eyes drift to the newborn child. Earth feels stirrings of sympathy for the young child. First living a life in secret, isolated from the world.Then being fated to rule the gods. Fate is not a simple thing. Earth knows some take comfort in destiny, while others chafe under it. 

“Do you not love him, mother?”

“Yes. But love can’t always change things. I love Kronos but I am forced to move against him.”

“But Kronos is-“

“Kronos is my son, Rhea. Do not forget that.” Earth’s tone is cold. But Rhea knows that coldness hinds a well of emotion. Earth loves all of her children. Even when it is difficult to do so. 

Rhea lowers her eyes. She turns her gaze back towards her son. She starts memorising his features. Although not wanting to think about it she knows she would have to leave him soon.

“But you’ll still nurture him, right?” Worry colouring Rhea’s voice.

“Yes, daughter. I will.” Earth covers Rhea’s hand with one of her own and gives her daughter a soft smile. “And I will tell him of his mother. Who was brave and risked the wrath of Kronos to save him. 

His mother who was not too proud to ask for help when she needed it. I will tell him of his siblings and I will tell him the story of his fate.”

“You really believe he can overthrow the Titans alone?”

“He is not alone. He has you”

“And you”

“I’m not much of a fighter”

Rhea makes a small noise of contemplation. “I might know some people who are.” Her voice trailing off as she thinks of her half-brothers. 

“Anyway”, Earth states as she stands. “That is for another day, my daughter. We have stayed here long enough. It is time for you to return before Kronos grows suspicious”

Rhea reflexively tightens her hold of her precious bundle. Her son makes a noise of protest and for a moment looks like he is about to wake. But he soon slips back under when Rhea relaxes her hold and makes soft reassuring noises. 

Earth watches all this with a sad smile. Her heart going out to her daughter who has gone through so much already and would have to suffer once more. Rhea turns huge, pleading eyes towards her mother. 

Rhea looks at her mother and sees the perfect goddess. Her eyes express sympathy, but the rest of her body looks as unmovable as the stone surrounding her. Rhea knows there is no other way.

When hands move to take her baby, she lets them.

Rhea looks like a puppet whose strings have just been cut. Her head sinks towards the floor. Her grief makes her voice crack as she asks, “Will rocks really fool him?”

“These rocks are a part me, daughter” Earth says as she carefully adjusts the sleeping child. “They come from deep within the earth and are imbued with my spirit.” 

“I also gave him three barrels of undiluted wine before I left. He must have drunk most of it by now.”

Earth offers a hand towards her daughter. Rhea eventually looks up and with obvious effort takes the hand and hauls herself up. Once upright Rhea sways slightly, unsteady on her feet. 

“Take heart, dear child. You will see your son again,” Earth says. A weak attempt at making her daughter feel better.

“Yes. But I will never see my baby.” 

Earth carefully leads Rhea out of the cave. Having to be aware of both her grandchild and her daughter. 

Once they make it out they can make out the faint light of dawn approaching on the horizon. 

Earth holds onto Rhea’s arm wishing she could transfer some of her strength to her daughter. 

Earth lets go and both women turn their eyes to the child. Earth is the one to break the strange silence that had come over them. 

“What’s his name?”

Rhea looks at her son. Her son. The one fated to overthrow her husband. The reason for her body’s pain and her heart’s grief. But also the reason Rhea has hope for the future of the gods. 

His face is peaceful in sleep. The newborn skin still flushed with red. Eyes shut, hiding incomprehensible dreams and sky blue eyes Rhea had only caught a glimpse of.

“Zeus” Rhea croaks out. She clears her throat as unshed tears form in her eyes. 

“His name is Zeus.”


	2. Epilogue

Rhea stands off to the side of the gathering. Her gaze trained on one person. Her eyes follow the bride, her daughter, as Hera makes her way through the throng of guests.

Rhea hears joyous shouts coming from the wedding party. Her son, Zeus, most likely with them. 

Zeus was everything fate promised. He overthrew Kronos and the other Titans. He was a king that led not only through fear but also through statesmanship. Freeing the Hundred Handers and equally dividing the world with his two brothers. This past age Rhea had never been happier. 

Now as she looks at Hera she is filled with grief. 

Her daughter forced into a marriage she did not choose for herself. 

Rhea truly thought Zeus would be different from his father. And in a way he did learn from his father’s mistakes. Instead of eating his children, he ate his wife. 

Rhea watches Hera and sees herself and her heart begins to weep.

‘Is it true mother? Are all men this way? Will it be this way forever?’ Rhea thinks despairingly. 

‘Maybe gods just weren’t meant to be kings. Already we are constrained to walk this earth forever. What is life with the world’s responsibility on your shoulders?’

Rhea’s distressing thoughts causes her to seek out wine. Careful not to consume too much, Rhea sips from her cup slowly. 

When Rhea emerged from that cave so long ago, despite her fatigued body and heavy heart, she was filled with hope. Coming from the depths of her mother’s labyrinth was like when she emerged from her mother’s womb. A rebirth. The birth of a new age.

Rhea’s eyes find their way back to Hera. As Rhea takes another sip her body fills with conviction. The same conviction that led her to save Zeus from Kronos. 

‘Even if things do not change, even if men always behave unjustly, I will look after the mothers. 

The same way my mother looked after me. 

I will not have to be seen. My own story was carried out in secret after all. A secret that remained until Zeus rose to power. 

I will watch. And I will protect them. As much as I am able. 

That is my purpose.’

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the play 'Henry IV' by William Shakespeare


End file.
